


teethmarks

by peterandhispirate



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Animal Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterandhispirate/pseuds/peterandhispirate
Summary: Tyler is on house arrest.





	teethmarks

Tyler didn't like dogs. This wasn't unusual, really - there were plenty of people who avoided them for a whole list of reasons. ****  
** **

"They're loud." ****  
** **

"They're annoying." ****  
** **

"They make a mess." ****  
** **

These things didn't bother Tyler. He didn't mind drool. He didn't mind chewed shoes. He didn't mind hair on his jeans. No, he didn't really care about any of that. But he didn't like dogs. And as time went on, it became so much easier to fall back on the typical excuses. ****  
** **

"They're loud," he said. ****  
** **

"They're annoying," he said. ****  
** **

"They make a mess," he said. ****  
** **

Tyler didn't mind. Truly, he didn't. The explanation was just too sad, and long, and complicated. Holy shit, was it complicated. ****  
** **

The legal system is tricky. Because when someone asks you, "Mr. Joseph, why did you kill this beloved family pet?" you can't really sigh and say, "Well, Judge, it was loud, and annoying, and it made a mess." ****  
** **

Tyler didn't say that. _Couldn't_ say that. So he started explaining. He tried to keep it brief, but it still wound up being sad, and long, and complicated. Maybe the somber nature of it was a good thing, because the judge was lenient; gave him a choice. Thirty days behind bars or a hundred spent at home, with an ankle monitor. He could go to church and therapy. That was it. No exceptions. ****  
** **

Tyler liked his mom's cooking too much to pick option one. ****  
** **

To say that people were pissed off was an understatement. Every animal rights advocate in Ohio wanted Tyler dead, and he didn't blame them. He had been brutal - a monster - so why wasn't he getting shipped off to some federal prison? It wasn't fair. ****  
** **

"People like this should be put on death row," one woman had said, shameless. There were a lot of comments that shared the same sentiment - mostly online. Angry Facebook rants and shit like that. If Tyler had left the house more than twice a week, he probably would've heard some of it in person.  ****  
** **

He wondered if the pot would still be simmering when the ankle monitor came off. Maybe he would get beat up. Maybe he deserved it. ****  
** **

(Oh, he definitely deserved it.) ****  
** **

Tensions ran so high that he was genuinely surprised when people came to visit him. Suckers from his church - fifteen of them, all trying their best to smile and look sympathetic. Seven were typical Sunday school kids. ****  
** **

They were scared of him. ****  
** **

"I know Tyler really appreciates your support," his mom said, squeezing his shoulder. She dug her nails in; Tyler couldn't tell if she was nervous or angry. Not angry at the visitors, but angry at her son. Did he not seem appreciative enough?  ****  
** **

"Of course." A middle-aged woman wearing a Snoopy shirt. Go figure. "We're all praying for you, Tyler. God will forgive you, I'm sure." ****  
** **

Tyler smiled at her from the couch and said, "I hope so." ****  
** **

She started to say something else - "I would suggest taking a look at John chapter one, verse nine " - but he wasn't listening. Not because he didn't care but because there was a little girl staring pretty intensely at his monitor. Tyler didn't mind too much, but the guy standing next to her elbowed her anyway, shaking his head. ****  
** **

Now that he'd drawn some attention to himself, it didn't take long for Tyler to recognize him. ****  
** **

_Josh Dun is in my living room._ ****  
** **

God truly worked in mysterious ways. ****  
** **

Was he there voluntarily? He definitely wasn't sixteen anymore, so it's not like anyone could force him. Maybe he was punishing himself - the uncomfortable look on his face made it seem like he wasn't having the best time. ****  
** **

Tyler couldn't help but wonder if he still hated his guts. It was hard to tell; Josh wouldn't look him in the eye. ****  
** **

"It's been nice seeing you, Tyler. I hope you'll keep coming to mass on Sundays. Please don't shut out the community. Don't shut out God." ****  
** **

"I'll try my best," Tyler told the lady in the Snoopy shirt. It wasn't a lie. He wasn’t a liar. "Thanks for stopping by." ****  
** **

He watched them file out the front door. All he wanted was for Josh to look at him - just once.  ****  
** **

He kept his head down.

****

;

****

Josh had always been under the impression that late-night walks were for sad old men and future murder victims. Now he was twenty-five with too much on his mind; God knows he wasn't going to meditate. So he walked, always alone and always thinking. Sometimes he listened to music. Sometimes he didn't. ****  
** **

Maybe it was fate that he didn't have his earbuds in on this night in particular. Josh wasn't big on destiny or karma or anything, but looking back on it, there was definitely some luck involved. Why else would he be passing by the Joseph house right when the barking started? ****  
** **

Dogs love making noise late at night. Everyone knows this. So Josh wouldn't have found it that out of place if it wasn't for the weird, distorted tone of it. Fake. Recorded. ****  
** **

It was a recording. ****  
** **

He only had to spend a few seconds looking around to figure out who was blaring freaky audio at 10PM. Three or four teenagers were gathered under a second-story window; the tallest one was holding a speaker. ****  
** **

Josh didn't need a mental map of the Joseph house to know whose room that was. ****  
** **

If he had been sixteen, he would've kept walking. But he was twenty-five, and tried his best to be a good person. He had to stop. He had to say something. ****  
** **

"Hey!" Josh wasn't used to yelling across the street at people. Or yelling in general. "Cut that shit out. It's not funny." ****  
** **

He couldn't really see that well, because it was dark and he was getting old, but Josh was positive they were laughing at him. The asshole with the speaker turned up the volume - code for _fuck you._ ****  
** **

Confronting a group of rowdy teenagers was the last thing Josh wanted to do on a Friday night, but he had no choice now. ****  
** **

Hands in his pockets and heart in his throat, he crossed the street. ****  
** **

He was greeted with a very prompt "the fuck do you want?" which he chose to ignore. Good thing it was pitch-black outside - otherwise they'd be able to see the fear leaking out of every pore on his body. Maybe they could smell it. ****  
** **

Why was he so scared of a couple suburban white boys with too much time on their hands? Who knows. ****  
** **

"Thought I told you to cut that shit out," Josh said, trying to sound as harsh as possible. It worked: the volume got turned back down.  ****  
** **

Good. ****  
** **

"Why do you even care?" asked the teenager closest to Josh. His breath smelled like watered-down beer. "Do you get off on animal abuse too?" ****  
** **

"No, I get off on telling jackasses like you to get going before I call the cops." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Go home." ****  
** **

Maybe it was the nose ring, or the tattoos, but they actually listened. Josh watched them slink off, speaker in tow, and almost felt proud of himself. Sometimes he forgot he had guts buried under seven layers of "oh my God, holy shit, what do I do?" ****  
** **

He stopped patting himself on the back as soon as he looked up and saw Tyler Joseph peering down at him from that second-story window. The eyes were watery; red. The mouth was saying _thank you._ ****  
** **

It could've been romantic, like Tyler was some princess in a tower and Josh was his knight in shining armor. It _could've_ been romantic, but it wasn't. Because Josh wasn't a knight, he was the coward who shrugged and walked off with his hands in his pockets.

****

;

****

Tyler wasn't stupid - for the most part, anyway. He fully expected to get some dirty looks. He'd been in local newspapers at that point (not the first time); everybody knew. Everybody had an opinion. And some of them just chose to express it by stealing passive-aggressive glances at him during Sunday mass. ****  
** **

Halfway through the service he had to double-check to make sure the monitor wasn't sinking deeper and deeper into his ankle, cutting off his blood flow; turning his foot blue.  ****  
** **

"Come now, let us settle the matter." The pastor's voice carved into Tyler's chest like a wayward scythe. Maybe that was the point. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow - though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool." ****  
** **

No, not a scythe. A box-cutter.  ****  
** **

Normally Tyler would stick around after mass to talk to everyone, but he had a feeling that these people weren't in the mood to chat - not with him at least. So he made a break for the car, head down and hands shoved in his pockets.  ****  
** **

He wasn't even halfway to the parking lot when he slammed into someone. ****  
** **

"Sorry, man, I guess I wasn't..." Josh trailed off, Adam's apple doing that nervous bobbing thing. "Oh. Hey." ****  
** **

"Hi." Tyler smiled at him. Tyler was friendly. He'd always been friendly. "You dyed your hair." ****  
** **

"Yeah, I guess I did," Josh said, running shaky fingers through the faded pink mess. Tyler told himself that Josh wasn't _scared,_ just nervous. He'd always been a nervous guy. Even in high school, when he was kind of an asshole. ****  
** **

"I like it. Very punk rock." ****  
** **

"Pink is punk rock now? Guess I didn't get the memo." He was sort of smiling. That counted as progress. ****  
** **

"Sure, why not?" Tyler said, shrugging. "Everybody likes pink. Even if they say they don't." ****  
** **

Josh nodded, because it was true, before scratching his neck and asking, "Do you still play basketball? You were, like, really good at it last time I checked." ****  
** **

"Nah. I didn't feel like wearing the uniform after my legs got all fucked up." He didn't have to pull out his long, sad, complicated explanation. Josh already knew. "Didn't want anyone staring, y'know?" ****  
** **

Josh _knew_ , and knowing made his Adam's apple go haywire all over again. "Yeah, I get it. Nice talking to you, dude." ****  
** **

"Seeya around," Tyler said, watching him leave in a hurry. Was he guilty? Tyler didn't want him to feel that way. But maybe shame was better than fear. Less painful.

****

;

****

Josh was sixteen and pissed off. It wasn’t like him to be really, truly angry - foaming at the mouth and seeing red. It scared him, but he couldn’t help it; couldn’t make his blood stop boiling. He had a right to feel this way. ****  
** **

_I have a right to feel this way._ ****  
** **

“What if they decide to sue?” His mom. She was in the kitchen. She was frantic. ****  
** **

“We’re already paying the medical bills. What more could they want?” His dad. He was in the kitchen, too. Less frantic, but not by much. ****  
** **

“Payback? I don’t know.” ****  
** **

“It’s not like we trained him to do shit like that. It came out of nowhere.” ****  
** **

“It was our dog.” Her voice cracked. Josh’s veins simmered. “We’re liable.” ****  
** **

“Why?” It was Josh this time, off the couch and on his feet, staring at them. ****  
** **

His mom blinked. “Why what?” ****  
** **

“Why are we liable? He should’ve tried harder to get away. That’s on him.” ****  
** **

“Don’t say things like that,” she pleaded - tired, like she didn’t have the strength to juggle a teenage outburst.  ****  
** **

Josh didn’t really care if she could juggle it, or if it was wrong. He kept going. “It’s his fault Cowboy had to be put down. It’s his fault he got hurt. I hate him.” ****  
** **

“ _Joshua_ .” A warning. ****  
** **

“He was a good dog,” Josh insisted, getting desperate. It was sad. He was sad. “He was _my dog_ .” ****  
** **

His father’s face was void of any and all sympathy. “Good dogs don’t send people to the hospital.” ****  
** **

“I hate Tyler,” Josh repeated, because there was nothing else to say. “I hate him so much.” ****  
** **

“It was an unprovoked attack. None of it was his fault.” Mr. Dun was starting to sound tired, too. ****  
** **

“I wish he would’ve bled out,” Josh said, shameless, and the next thing he knew his mom’s hand was whipping across his face. The sound of it bounced off the ceiling, the cabinets, the countertops - a ricocheting bullet. Someone had been shot. ****  
** **

“Listen to me.” He couldn’t. His ears were buzzing. “Don’t you _ever_ say anything like that again. Do you understand?” ****  
** **

Blood on his teeth and tears in his eyes, Josh opened his mouth to spit out one last “I hate him.” ****  
** **

He had nothing else to say.

****

;

****

Tyler didn’t know why he sought out the articles about him. He didn’t know why he went straight to the comments, storing away each one in his mental catalogue of self-hatred. ****  
** **

_“Isn’t animal cruelty a sign of insanity? The dude’s a psychopath.”_ ****  
** **

_“someone should give him a taste of his own medicine. i’ve got a switchblade and too much free time - whaddya say, joseph?”_ ****  
** **

_“Hard to believe people like this exist. So fucking gross.”_ ****  
** **

_“if i see this bastard in public i’ll kick his teeth in.”_ ****  
** **

And there was a lump in his throat, but he couldn’t look away - _refused_ to look away. He was punishing himself. He was repenting.

****

;

****

The last place Josh pictured himself standing was on the Josephs’ doorstep. But there he was, holding a stack of papers in one hand and ringing the doorbell with the other. He considered turning around and making a break for it; they’d chalk it up to some dumb teenager playing a prank and Josh wouldn’t have to look Tyler in the eye. A win-win. ****  
** **

He didn’t turn. He didn’t run. He stood, and he waited, and he smiled at Mrs. Joseph when she opened the door and said, “It’s so nice to see you, Josh.” ****  
** **

“Super sorry to bother you,” he said, sounding like the world’s most apologetic Boy Scout. “Some of the Sunday school kids drew pictures for Tyler. Just thought I’d drop them off.” ****  
** **

“Oh, did they? That’s so sweet.” She swung open the door a little wider and stepped aside. “Come in. I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.” ****  
** **

Fuck. ****  
** **

“Sure thing.” Every nerve in his body was screaming _danger!_ at the same time, but Josh did as he was told and went inside, eyes already raking the interior for any sign of Tyler. The door clicked shut behind him, cementing the trapped animal feeling that made his palms cry sweaty tears. ****  
** **

When in close quarters with Tyler Joseph, the last thing you wanted to be was an animal. ****  
** **

“He’s in the kitchen,” Mrs. Joseph said, patting his shoulder. “Don’t be shy.” ****  
** **

Easier said than done. ****  
** **

Somehow Josh fought the primal urge to get the fuck out of there and started forward, legs made of granite and struggling to breathe around the heart in his throat. He was overreacting and he knew it - he’d known Tyler since the fifth grade. They were never friends (they were the polar opposite in high school) but Josh knew him well enough. Tyler wasn’t some sociopath who harvested organs, he was… Nice. He’d always been nice to Josh, even when he was a bloodthirsty sixteen-year-old asshole with major self-esteem issues.  ****  
** **

Even when Josh wanted nothing more than to castrate him with a pair of rusty scissors. ****  
** **

_Tyler was nice,_ Josh told himself, stepping into the kitchen. _Tyler_ is _nice._ ****  
** **

Tyler was rooting through the refrigerator, back turned to Josh, whose brain couldn’t help but theorize that if he _did_ harvest organs, that’s where he’d keep them. Organ-harvesting wasn’t the best conversation starter, though, so Josh decided to clear his throat and say “hey, dude” instead. ****  
** **

Original? No. On the safe side? Absolutely. ****  
** **

Tyler nearly dropped a one-gallon container of ice cream on his foot, spinning around to give Josh a “holy shit why are you in my house” look. Maybe he thought Josh was stopping by to make good on all those high school threats. ****  
** **

But instead of yanking out his teeth or bashing his face in, Josh just smiled and said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” ****  
** **

“It’s cool,” Tyler said, holding up the one-gallon container. “Want some ice cream?” ****  
** **

“I appreciate the offer, but no. I’m just here to drop off some stuff from the Sunday school kids.” ****  
** **

Intrigued, Tyler abandoned the ice cream on the kitchen counter and stepped towards him. “What kinda stuff?” ****  
** **

“Drawings and shit,” Josh said, trying his best to keep the quiver out of his voice. “They’re all praying for you.” ****  
** **

“I could always use some extra prayers.”  ****  
** **

Josh opted to say nothing, handing him the stack of first grade masterpieces. If any of the papers were soaked with sweat, Tyler didn’t mention it, already sifting through the pile with this big grin on his face. Fight or flight response aside, Josh was happy for him. His sixteen-year-old self would be incredibly disappointed. ****  
** **

Tyler was halfway through the stack when the lopsided smile twitched, and trembled, and disappeared. Stomach flipping over on itself, Josh furrowed his eyebrows and asked him what was wrong. ****  
** **

“Y’know,” Tyler said, holding up the picture he’d been staring at for the past twenty seconds, “they really captured the brutality of the moment.” ****  
** **

Oh. ****  
** **

Josh had never seen so many angry red scribbles in his life - the kid must’ve used an entire crayon. And in the middle of all that red was Tyler, a knife-wielding stick figure complete with a smiley face. At the receiving end of the knife was a dog with X’s for eyes. ****  
** **

“Holy shit,” Josh whispered. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t know that was in there. That’s… _fuck_ .” ****  
** **

Tyler just shrugged, and smiled, and said, “It’s whatever. They were going for realism. I can appreciate that.” ****  
** **

Unbelievable. ****  
** **

“Hey, look,” Tyler said, already moving on to the next drawing. The smile had been renewed, bigger and more crooked than ever. “This one has you in it.” ****  
** **

Immediately worried, Josh squinted at the artwork being dangled in front of his face. Sure enough, there he was, sporting neon pink hair and a blue-green smudge for a tattoo. Tyler was there, too (knife-free this time). They were holding hands. ****  
** **

“Are you sure you didn’t draw this one?” It really didn’t take much for that wholesome smile to turn into a shit-eating, heart-stopping grin. ****  
** **

“What?” Josh was spluttering and he knew it, face hot enough to speed up global warming by fifty percent. “No. Why would I-”

“Easy there,” Tyler said, still wearing that smirk. Josh hated him. “Just a joke. Wouldn’t want you to self-destruct or something.” ****  
** **

If it wasn’t for Tyler’s mom sweeping into the kitchen two seconds later, he probably would’ve done just that. “Can I get you boys anything?” ****  
** **

“I’m twenty-four,” Tyler reminded her, like she’d completely forgotten; Josh wondered if Mrs. Joseph looked at her son and couldn’t help but see a scrawny teenager with blood running down his legs. Maybe she looked at Josh and saw something vulgar; spiteful. ****  
** **

But she was oh-so polite when she turned to him and said, “I just want you to know that you’re welcome here any time.” ****  
** **

“Thank you,” Josh said, but he didn’t feel welcome anymore. Not because of them, but because there was guilt bubbling in his stomach like champagne in a nine-year-old bottle. Some vicious bastard had let the cork loose - just like that there was regret running out his ears, his eyes, his nose, pooling at his feet and making him sick. He was _sick._ “I should probably get going.” ****  
** **

So he left. He was a coward. He was sick.

****

;

****

Tyler didn’t remember a lot of his dreams. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, he wasn’t sure. He would wake up feeling heavy; out of place. But he could never really pinpoint why. It was like being sedated every night and having foreign hands chip away at him, little by little; when Tyler came to, he couldn’t quite figure out what was missing.  ****  
** **

This time, he remembered, and it was a burden. ****  
** **

He was standing at the bottom of a driveway - judging from the neglected basketball hoop, it was most likely his own. At the top of this driveway was a body; the closer he got, the more he recognized it. Maybe he would’ve preferred if it were a faceless stranger: no connection to him, or his past, or even his future. Detached. A blank slate.  ****  
** **

But it wasn’t a stranger, it was Josh, arms crossed mummy-style over his chest and eyes squeezed shut. No, squeezed wasn’t the right word - he was at ease. He was sleeping. ****  
** **

Tyler knelt down at his side, painfully curious. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was a fairy tale scenario, with Josh as the sleeping beauty and him as the not-so-handsome prince. That probably wasn’t the case - too tender of a narrative - but if it really was all a mushy fantasy, there had to be a dragon hiding _somewhere._ ****  
** **

As far as princes went, Tyler wasn't the brightest: rather than sharpening his sword or scouting the area, he just sat there. Josh was so beautiful, and Tyler would've gladly died for him, but right then all he wanted was to sit, and stare, and let his heart feel full for the first time. A reasonable request, if you asked him. ****  
** **

No, Tyler wasn't the brightest, because he reached out to touch Josh's face, fingertips kissing his cheek. It was warm. It was pink. It made Tyler's heart go _pow._ ****  
** **

Tyler wasn't the brightest, but he couldn't help it. He was so lonely, and Josh was so beautiful. And warm. And pink. ****  
** **

Tyler wasn't the brightest, which is why it took awhile for him to notice the way Josh's stomach trembled, as if something was stirring just below the surface. He lifted up the shirt just enough to expose Josh's underbelly, and sure enough, the skin seemed to ripple. The face remained serene. ****  
** **

Pretty soon the rippling turned to ripping and Tyler was watching Josh's stomach split wide open. Out crawled the dragon, careless tongue lolling and nose as shiny and black as ever. Its hair was clogged with blood and acid, but it didn't seem to mind - not even when Tyler scrambled backwards with plate-sized eyes.  ****  
** **

"Please go away," he begged, choking on his own spit. "I don't have anything for you. Just leave me alone." ****  
** **

The tongue rolled back into the rubbery mouth; it spoke to him in a language he didn't understand. There were tears in his eyes. ****  
** **

Tyler had never been the brightest. That's why he reached out to touch its face, hoping to prove that it wasn't real - that his fingers would pass right through. ****  
** **

Forty-two. That's how many teeth sank into Tyler's hand, ripping through skin and bone and shredding countless nerves along the way. He would've screamed bloody murder if he wasn't awake, and in the dark. ****  
** **

It was 3AM and Tyler's own nonexistent shriek was ringing in his ears. Just like all the other times, he felt heavy; out of place. But he knew _why_ this time, knew exactly what had been taken from him. Knew he couldn't get it back. ****  
** **

And Josh. Josh had been so beautiful.

****

;

****

“How far can you go with that thing on?” ****  
** **

“Not very far,” Tyler admitted, controller in hand and eyes glued to the TV screen. He’d been two parts shocked and one part delighted when Josh turned up on the front porch, wondering if he wanted to “hang out or something.” He was the boy next door, too sweet and soft for Tyler to say no. Besides, company was company. ****  
** **

Off the porch and sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, Josh stole another glance at the monitor, curious and nervous all at once. “What would happen if you took it off?” ****  
** **

“They’d be notified.”  ****  
** **

“Have you tried? To, uh. To take it off I mean.” ****  
** **

Tyler snorted, still looking straight ahead. “No, because I’m not stupid.” ****  
** **

“We’re all a little stupid,” Josh pointed out. ****  
** **

“Is that something you tell people to make yourself feel better?” ****  
** **

“Hey. Don’t be mean.” ****  
** **

“It’s not like you need to worry about it anyway,” Tyler said, sounding amused. “You’re not gonna commit any crimes. You’re too nice.” ****  
** **

Josh blinked. “Uh. Thanks. I think.” ****  
** **

“No problem.” ****  
** **

“Y’know, you’re pretty nice, too.” ****  
** **

Tyler smiled, but there was no teeth, because he didn’t believe it. “Whatever you say.”

****

;

****

The evening hours had always been a breeding ground for the worst kind of thoughts. Tyler would lay, and he would think, brain jumping from conclusion to conclusion until he didn’t know how to feel anymore - like there was too much and not enough at the same time. Empty, but overflowing.  ****  
** **

It was during these evening hours that he used clammy fingers to text Josh on a whim. They’d exchanged numbers the week before; nothing had come of it until then. ****  
** **

_are you still mad?_ ****  
** **

He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried, which is why the instant response didn’t surprise him. ****  
** **

_About what??_ ****  
** **

Clarifying hurt. Tyler did it anyway. ****  
** **

_cowboy._ ****  
** **

The reply rolled in fifteen seconds later; Tyler half-expected him to say “I would still kick your ass if given the chance.” ****  
** **

_That was like a decade ago dude_ ****  
** **

_you were pretty pissed at the time._ ****  
** **

_I feel really awful about it now. I loved that dog to pieces but what happened to him wasn’t your fault_ ****  
** **

Deciding he didn’t want to think about it anymore, Tyler asked, _do you remember when you used to call me cujo?_ ****  
** **

_Oh my God please don’t remind me. I was so shitty_ ****  
** **

_it’s whatever. we’re all awful at 16._ ****  
** **

_You were pretty cool_ ****  
** **

_i was a twig with 20 pairs of skinny jeans._ ****  
** **

_Yeah well I made fun of dog attack survivors. Face it dude, I’ve got you beat_ ****  
** **

_i remember thinking you were kinda cute._ Not wanting to be too mushy, he made sure to follow up with _in an asshole way._ ****  
** **

_What about now??_ ****  
** **

_definitely still an asshole._ ****  
** **

_Hey! Fuck you_ ****  
** **

_goodnight josh._ ****  
** **

_Sweet dreams Cujo_

****

;

****

Josh was watching The Simpsons from the Josephs' living room couch when he glanced over at Tyler and announced, "My sister got a puppy.” ****  
** **

Tyler didn't look away from the TV - not because he wasn't paying attention but because he didn't dare make eye contact. Not when puppies were involved. "What kind?" ****  
** **

"I dunno," Josh said, shrugging - a nervous jerk of the shoulders. "One of those shelter dogs." ****  
** **

Tyler hummed, still not looking at him. ****  
** **

Josh scratched at his jaw with too-twitchy fingers before clearing his throat and saying, "I, uh. I've been reading up on exposure therapy." ****  
** **

Tyler hummed again. ****  
** **

"I just thought maybe you'd wanna meet her. The puppy, I mean." ****  
** **

"And your sister's okay with that?" Tyler asked, finally turning to face him with both eyebrows raised. ****  
** **

"I already asked," Josh assured him. "As long as I supervise, she's cool with it." ****  
** **

There was a five-second pause. And then, "Do you have a picture?" ****  
** **

"Too many pictures," Josh confessed, pulling his phone out of his pocket with those same shaky fingers. But he was smiling when he turned the screen towards Tyler, who took in the floppy ears and button nose and said "cute." ****  
** **

"So you'll consider it?” ****  
** **

Tyler opened his mouth with every intention of saying “sorry, but no.” Maybe it was the way Josh was looking at him, all starry-eyed and hopeful - so fucking excited to make progress. Whatever it was, Tyler’s tongue moved faster than his brain, and he found himself saying “sure, why not?” ****  
** **

Fantastic. ****  
** **

“Cool,” Josh said, wearing a smile wide enough to split his face in two. And for just a moment, Tyler didn’t really care about his brain or his tongue or how fast they moved, because his heart was sitting warm and full in his chest. ****  
** **

The moment passed. Josh left. All the while Tyler fought the urge to go play in heavy traffic, because holy shit, he was a jackass. Sure, he could just shoot Josh a text explaining how he’d thought it over; changed his mind. Knowing Josh, he would totally understand - he’d gotten pretty good at that. But Tyler didn’t text him, didn’t even bother telling his mom what a horrible mistake he made. Because maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Maybe some part of him actually _wanted_ to make progress. Move forward. ****  
** **

_Josh will be there the whole time,_ Tyler reminded himself, again and again until he was scared of how much it comforted him.  ****  
** **

He repeated it like he was casting a spell the day of the meeting, sitting hunched over on the couch with his head down and his cuticles in his mouth. If he chewed them hard enough, they’d start bleeding; the dog might smell it and rip off both his hands. ****  
** **

_That’s not how dogs work,_ his brain said, but he didn’t really believe it. ****  
** **

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Josh called out from behind the front door. Tyler could already hear her snuffling around on the front porch. He wished he could find it cute. He wished he could hold puppies, and kiss puppies, and play fetch with puppies.  ****  
** **

He prayed for progress. ****  
** **

“You can come in. M’ready.” ****  
** **

The door opened nice and slow, which almost made it worse. Ten breathless seconds later and Tyler found himself staring down the same floppy ears and button nose from before. But this puppy wasn’t confined to Josh’s phone, it was _real,_ and already heading straight for him.  ****  
** **

Tyler yanked his legs out of reach and pressed himself as far back into the couch as he could manage. His heart was a clenched fist, squeezing hard enough to turn the knuckles white. ****  
** **

“She’s too small to get up there,” Josh assured him, and he was right: she couldn’t even put her paws up on the cushions. The fist loosened just a little. ****  
** **

“What’s her name again?” Tyler’s voice was a squeak held together by the rasp in his throat. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Josh didn’t seem to mind, calling her over to him to give Tyler some space. With a puppy chewing on his shoelaces, he grinned up at Tyler and said, “Her name’s Lily.” ****  
** **

It was like a page straight from the world’s softest storybook. Josh on his own was already the most ethereal thing Tyler had ever seen; watching him play with a puppy was almost too much. And that was coming from the guy who avoided dogs like the plague. ****  
** **

Tyler stayed put for the most part, knees hugged tight against his chest. Wearing shorts had been a bold move - forty-two ivory reminders, perfectly outlined against his skin. Josh had never glimpsed anything above Tyler’s ankles (sometimes he wound up wearing a pair of his sweatpants - Tyler never called him out on it because he knew how flustered it would make him). On the bright side, maybe it was a good thing that Josh was looking everywhere but his legs: a sign that he didn’t really mind the damage. Or maybe it had something to do with guilt. ****  
** **

Either way, he was pretty occupied with the four-legged, floppy-eared mystery called Lily. Tyler watched her wrestle with Josh’s hands, caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace. She didn’t look a whole lot like Cowboy - too small and wiggly. Her permanent teeth hadn’t even grown in yet. But a dog was a dog; each yelp made Tyler’s heart wither and die in his chest, only to be revived three seconds later when Josh smiled or laughed or said something cute like “I wonder if she can understand me when I say I love her.” ****  
** **

“I’m sure she gets the idea,” Tyler said. Josh pressed a kiss to her nose anyway, as if to make sure she got the sentiment. She returned the favor by licking his chin, making Tyler wrinkle his nose and say, “Ew, dude. That’s gross.”

Josh looked up at him with his bottom lip sticking out, eyes big and brown enough to knock Tyler out cold. “What d’ya have against puppy love?”  ****  
** **

“Think about it, man. You don’t know where that tongue has been.” ****  
** **

“I French-kissed a chainsmoker in a bathroom stall one time. I think I’ll be okay.”

Tyler raised both eyebrows. “Hot.” ****  
** **

Josh just snorted and tickled Lily’s chin, looking mildly embarrassed. “Not really.” ****  
** **

“Was he at least cute?” Tyler asked, painfully curious. He hoped it wasn’t wrong of him to go out on a limb and assume this chainsmoker was a dude. There were some vague memories of Josh getting outed in high school - caught making out with some guy working the concession stand at a football game. Despite all the unspoken bad blood between them, Tyler had felt kind of bad for him. Sure, Josh had been a punkass with hazy motives, but he was also sensitive to a fault; uncomfortable all the time. If Tyler had sunk to his level, he would’ve had a field day with the kid. ****  
** **

But Josh didn’t seem all that uncomfortable when he shrugged and said, “He wasn’t you, that’s for sure.” ****  
** **

Oh. ****  
** **

“Yeah, well, I’m a lot to live up to,” Tyler pointed out with an air of self-importance, trying so hard not to lose his mind right there on the couch. “Both in personality and in looks.” ****  
** **

“ _A lot_ is a really good way to put it,” Josh said, smiling, and holy shit did he make it difficult to keep it together. ****  
** **

At some point during the conversation, Lily had wandered over to the foot of the sofa and sat down, staring up at Tyler from the carpet. He blinked back at her, thoughtful; considering. And then, “Do you wanna come up here?” ****  
** **

More staring. The tail wagged. ****  
** **

“Okay,” he mumbled, breathless and reaching down with hands so shaky that you would’ve thought he just got them yesterday. Lily didn’t squirm when Tyler’s fingers curled around her, lifting her up with arms stiff enough to rival tree branches. They spent five or six seconds just looking at each other, uncertain. Eventually Tyler remembered that his arms could bend; he dropped her at the opposite end of the couch. But she was a puppy, and puppies are too curious for their own good - she wasted no time making her way over to him, snuffling at his leg, trying to figure out what his problem was. ****  
** **

Wide-eyed, Josh watched from the floor as Tyler muttered “what’s up?” and patted her head with those unreliable fingers. Lily took this as an invitation to climb into his lap; Tyler went arthritic all over, like an animal in close quarters with its worst predator - not daring to move, or breathe, or blink. She didn’t seem to take any notice, curling up on his thighs with her button nose tucked safe and snug under her tail. ****  
** **

The tears in Tyler’s eyes were hot, but they didn’t burn. Josh asked if he wanted to have her taken away. ****  
** **

“No,” Tyler whispered, and smiled. “No, I want her to stay.”

****

;

****

Tyler was fifteen and shooting hoops out on the driveway. The sky was just the right shade of blue - bright, but not to the point where it hurt his eyes. His mom was in the kitchen making pasta salad, humming some rock song from the seventies.

The whole thing was painfully suburban.

Tyler took another shot and missed, watching it bounce off the rim and plummet back down to the concrete. The basketball season had just started; every chance he got, he practiced. It didn’t leave him much time for anything else, but he didn’t mind. He lived for fast breaks and triple threats and the feeling of being part of something. Was that cheesy? Sure. Tyler didn’t care. He was having fun.

“Crap,” he muttered when he missed the hoop again, eyes following the ball as it smacked into the backboard. This time he caught it when it fell back down, turning it over in his hands with a huff. He would’ve gone inside and taken a break right then if it wasn’t for the mass of pale fur shambling up the driveway towards him. Tyler recognized him almost immediately - the Duns’ dog. They lived a few houses down; he probably wandered out of their backyard.

“C’mere bud.” Tyler’s voice was a feather-soft purr. He set down the basketball and opened up his arms - a clear invitation to come closer. The dog was only a few feet away at that point, pink nose perfectly matching his rolling pink tongue. Tyler was used to seeing him run through the neighborhood with the curly-haired boy whose name he always forgot. “Can I pet you? Is that okay?”

The dog seemed to smile, so Tyler held out his hand.

The teeth that plunged into Tyler’s palm were off-white - almost yellow, but not quite. The top set cut through muscle and bone and the ones on the bottom met them halfway, coming together and refusing to part, even when Tyler screamed and jerked like a shot coyote.

Oh, Tyler tugged and he tugged but that only made the teeth sink deeper, hold on tighter, shred more nerves, and dear God his hand was going to be torn clean in two and there was nothing he could do about it - except knee the bastard in the throat until he unhinged his jaw and went for the legs instead, over and over and over and over, not even stopping when he had a mouth full of skin and muscle and iron, pink nose stained brown with copper. The cement was stained too, slick with carnage that just kept coming, just kept pouring, Tyler was _covered_ in it and he couldn’t even stand. No, he could only look the beast in the eye and wonder what he had done wrong, wonder why God hadn’t sewn his carnal mouth shut like the mouths of the lions from Babylon.

By the time Tyler’s mom ran outside, screaming and crying and waving a broom, he was unconscious. No, he was _mutilated_ , and not even sixty-three stitches could really fix him.

The damage was done.

****

;

****

_“Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? Will you be to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail?”_

Out of all the verses in all the chapters, both the New Testament and the Old, those were the words that had been seared into Tyler’s brain. The woman in the Snoopy shirt had practically begged him not to shut out God, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. He had nothing else.

_You have Josh,_ he reminded himself, glancing down at the mess of pink curls and delicate snores. It was a Wednesday night and they were watching The Shining in Tyler’s living room - okay, _Tyler_ was watching it because Josh had fallen fast asleep (even after swearing up and down that he’d make it through the whole thing). And Tyler knew he would give him shit for it later, but for the time being all he wanted was to enjoy having Josh’s cheek nestled against his shoulder.

“I have Josh,” he mumbled aloud, like he didn’t quite believe it.

“You sure do.”

Caught off guard, Tyler just blinked; Josh blinked back at him with sleepy eyes and an even sleepier smile.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay,” Josh said, sitting up a little straighter. Tyler’s shoulder felt painfully cold without his dumb angel face smushed against it. “How much did I miss?”

Tyler shrugged. “I dunno. At least half.”

“Jeez, dude. I’m sorry.”

Another shrug, but this one came with a half-smile. “It’s whatever. You need your beauty sleep. You’ve earned it.”

“All I did today was eat a bunch of Oreos and take a nap,” Josh admitted, sheepish.

“You’re a simple man with simple needs. I can respect that.”

Josh was grinning until he glimpsed the little black box tied tight against Tyler’s ankle and all the joy melted off his face. Confused, Tyler followed his eyes; once he realized what killed the mood, he was overwhelmed with the need to say _something._ Anything.

“Y’know, I didn’t really mean to hurt him. The dog, I mean. I dunno.” He ran a hand through his hair, all five fingers shaking at different frequencies. “I did end up hurting him, obviously, but I was just... scared. He came out of nowhere, and I freaked out. It’s not like I woke up that morning and _decided_ I was gonna kill somebody’s pet.”

Josh scooted a little closer, eyes hopelessly soft; giving his arm a tender squeeze. He was asking Tyler to keep going, so he did.

“I carried that stupid box-cutter with me everywhere. Just in case, y’know? Just in case I got attacked again. It’s a lot easier to explain having a box-cutter in your pocket than a knife. Knives mean violence, and I’m not a violent guy. Really, I’m not,” Tyler insisted, desperate. “Just scared.”

“I believe you,” Josh whispered, smiling, and Tyler exhaled all shaky like he’d been holding his breath for the past nine years.

“I dunno what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Josh just looked at him, dumb angel face outlined by the light from the TV screen. He looked at Tyler and said, “I love you.”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitched. “Cool.”

So Tyler kissed him, pulling Josh into his lap and losing his fingers in that faded pink hair, losing his inhibitions in the softness of Josh’s mouth, the softness of the whine that he breathed high and helpless against Tyler’s lips. The whimper turned to a gasp when Tyler grabbed Josh by the shoulders and flipped him on his back, straddling his hips and drowning in the love-drunk look on his face. So trusting.

“You’re pretty,” Tyler said, soft and stupid. Flattered, Josh smiled, and Tyler didn’t need expert lighting to know his cheeks were pink.

“I’m real glad you think so.”

“Bet you’re even prettier with your shirt off.”

Voice a tender plea, Josh stared up at him and said, “Why don’t y’find out?”

Once he had been handed an invitation, Tyler wasted no time yanking Josh’s shirt over his head and tossing it aside, leaving the pink hair even more of a mess than usual. The angel between his thighs was a mess, too, giving him the most pathetic look he’d ever seen.

So Tyler pitied him - not with words but with open-mouthed kisses that he pressed to Josh’s throat, collarbone, chest, working his way down, down, down until he was peppering Josh’s underbelly with love bites that made him whimper and squirm and tug on Tyler’s hair with desperate fingers. His hips jerked against Tyler’s own, again and again - frantic grinding that made Tyler realize just how hard he was.

“Tyler?” An appeal for mercy, groaned through gritted teeth. “Please..?”

And Tyler sat back, because he was kind of an asshole, and said, “I dunno. My mom’s upstairs. Wouldn’t wanna wake her with all your moaning.”

“ _Tyler_.”

“Only ‘cause you asked nicely,” he hummed, curling his fingers around the waist of Josh’s sweatpants and ripping them down to his thighs. With all that fabric out of the way, he could finally see the outline of Josh's cock pressed tight and aching against his boxers. He saw it, and it made something hot and heavy and _carnal_ boil in his gut.

Beside himself at that point, Josh reached down with careless fingers, ready to (literally) take matters into his own hands; Tyler just grabbed him by the wrist, shaking his head. “I’m gonna take care of it, baby. Just gotta be patient.”

“Feels like I’m gonna split in two,” Josh whimpered, breathless but oh-so obedient.

“Nobody likes a drama queen, Josh.” But Tyler could _see_ the way his cock throbbed, already staining his boxers with precum. So he kept his word and took care of it, yanking them down until he could get drunk on the sight of Josh’s dick, painfully hard against the softness of his trembling stomach. The shaking only got worse when Tyler curled nimble fingers around Josh’s cock and started sliding them up and down, faster and faster, again and again, and Josh couldn’t help but cry because he was just so _sensitive_ , holy shit-

“Dude,” Tyler whispered, eyes the roundest Josh had ever seen them - probably because he had cum all over his shirt. But he wasn’t angry, just in awe, captivated by the spaced-out look on Josh’s face: eyes half-lidded and smiling all dreamy. He was beautiful; that’s why it was all the more upsetting when he frowned and mumbled “oh no.”

“What’s up?” Tyler asked, eyebrows furrowed and praying he wasn’t going to say “I have a boyfriend” or something equally as alarming.

But Josh just sighed and said, “Missed the end of the movie.”

“Please don’t make me punch you.”

****

;

****

Tyler was fifteen and could barely hold a pencil. The nerve damage in his hand had left it pretty unreliable, so he wasn’t even surprised when shit slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor. Surprised, no, but embarrassed? Absolutely. And to make matters ten times worse, Josh Dun sat at the desk directly across from his; if he had the opportunity to give Tyler a condescending look, he would take it. No questions asked.

There was only one instance where Tyler thought that maybe, just _maybe_ Josh was going to reach down and grab it for him. Hand it back like a normal person. Maybe he’d even smile.

That was three seconds before Josh placed his shoe on the pencil and pressed down, letting it splinter beneath his heel.

_I hate you,_ Tyler mouthed at him, and he meant it. _Asshole._

Josh just shrugged and looked away.

He was a coward.

****

;

****

Usually when Tyler saw things, upsetting things, he was caught up in some lawless fever dream. But this was different. It was different because it was 2AM and he was wide awake. The shape in the far corner of his room was awake, too, sitting patiently with eyes that cut through the darkness like twin flashlights. No pupil, no iris, just two glowing beacons of contempt.

Tyler considered asking it what it wanted, but he didn’t think he’d like the answer very much.

So he ran. He freed himself from his sheets and fucking _ran_ , down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the door, down the sidewalk, across the street, getting faster and faster because he could _feel_ those ultraviolet eyes scorching the back of his head, passing straight through his skull and making his brain melt.

Tyler covered four whole blocks before he decided to make a break for the woods, convincing himself that he could lose it in the trees. Leaving the sidewalk behind, he cut between two houses and took off towards the treeline, choking on the metallic bile coating the back of his throat. Leaves crackled like lightning under his feet; the devil’s bark was the thunder, ringing in Tyler’s ears and bringing tears to his eyes. The roar of the storm was loud enough to drown out the frantic beeping of the ankle monitor.

_Go home,_ it cried, but Tyler couldn’t turn back, even if he wanted to.

The further he ran, the thicker the foliage seemed to get until he was stumbling blindly through a pitch-black playground, clipping his shoulders on tree trunks and letting thorns rip open nine-year-old scars. Somewhere along the way, the off-key snarling gained a hard edge. The illusion was fading; the real thing took its place.

Somebody was shouting commands - the dog or its handler, Tyler couldn’t tell. They both seemed to be screaming at him in two completely different languages. The onslaught of noise only stopped when a mouthful of teeth sank into the back of Tyler’s leg - then it was his turn to scream, crashing to the forest floor with a set of pearly hooks still buried deep in his calf. He tried his best to drag himself away, clawing at the soil with bloody fingernails, but the hooks refused to let go. So he could only shriek, a single shard of moonlight gleaming in the whites of his eyes.

“Come quietly and this night will get significantly better for both of us.” Calloused hands made a grab for Tyler’s wrists, cuffing them tight and unforgiving against his back. Meanwhile, the dog slid his teeth out of Tyler’s leg, opting to nip at him instead - his sides, his shoulders, the back of his neck. And Tyler just sobbed into the dirt, _begging_ him to stop. 

Please, God, just make it stop.

The officer paid no mind. Painfully silent, he grabbed Tyler by the collar of his shirt, yanking him to his feet; shoving him onward. So he went quietly, one leg torn open and a dog snapping at his heels, and all the while he prayed for some nighttime monster to follow the copper trail and finish him off because this _had_ to be the end of the world.

Ten minutes of limping later and Tyler was being shoved into the back of a police car. He didn’t say a word; asked no questions. Not even something basic like “where are you taking me?” Maybe he was convinced that opening his mouth would lead to throwing up everywhere.

Maybe he just didn’t care.

****

;

****

_“Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? Will you be to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail?”_

****

;

****

The first thing Josh said when they saw each other again was “hey.”

“Hi.” Tyler’s voice was hoarse from screaming for mercy the night before. “I got thirteen stitches.”

“You should fucking sue,” Josh said, practically _snarled_ it, and Tyler’s heart hurt. They both had bags under their eyes.

“Sue for what?”

“Excessive force, or some shit like that.” Frazzled, Josh ran a weary hand through his hair. His entire arm was shaking, and all Tyler wanted was to reach across the table and wind their fingers together. But that was too intimate an act for visitation hours - not allowed - so he just looked at him and hoped the tenderness in his eyes provided some kind of comfort.

“It’s whatever. I don’t really want more legal trouble.”

“Your mom and I _begged_ those bastards not to use a K9 unit. Told them over and over that it’d only make things worse.” There were tears in Josh’s eyes. “God, Tyler, I’m so sorry.”

Tyler just smiled and said, “You were right, y’know. About the whole ‘we’re all a little stupid’ thing.”

“You weren’t being stupid,” Josh insisted. “You were just confused. And scared.”

“Yeah, well, I still broke house arrest. That’s why I’m here.”

“Until when?”

Tyler shrugged. “Until I go to court and they decide what to do with me.”

Josh buried his face in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

Lifting his head to look at him with heartsick eyes, Josh croaked, “This all started with me.”

“Dude,” Tyler said, two parts puzzled and one part worried. “You’ve gotta be a little more specific.”

So Josh clarified.

“It’s my fault you got torn to shreds sophomore year. I was supposed to take Cowboy out on the leash, because we couldn’t afford a fence, but I didn’t feel like it so I just… let him go. He’d never tried to run off before, so I didn’t think he would leave the yard. But he did, and that’s how he found you. It was because of me, Tyler.” Josh was shaking. He was always fucking shaking. “And it was just so much easier to pretend _you_ had done something wrong, not me. But you didn’t do shit, and I _knew_ that, because I was so fucking guilty. I walked around like I didn’t care, talked down to you, but every time you looked at me I wanted to throw up because I hated myself so much. You quit the basketball team and I couldn’t sleep for a week. Just kept thinking about how I ruined your life.” 

Tyler blinked. Josh kept going - couldn’t stop. The tears that had been sitting hot and shiny in his eyes were running down his face; dripping from his chin.

“I wish he would’ve gone for me. I was just some punk kid with self-esteem issues, but god dammit, you were supposed to be a basketball star. You had a _future_ , and I stole it from you.” With a voice so cracked that Tyler had to swallow a lump in his throat, Josh whispered, “He should’ve gone for _me_ , Tyler. He should’ve pulled me apart.”

“No.” The response was immediate, Tyler’s words firm and honest and accompanied by a vigorous shake of the head. “Don’t say shit like that. I don’t care how much of a dick you were in high school, I’d _never_ wish that kind of pain on you. And don’t you dare wish it on yourself, either. I love you too much.”

Still shaking, still sniffling, Josh managed a smile. “Love you too.”

“How’s Lily?” Tyler asked in earnest, because they were in desperate need of a subject change and he actually wanted to know.

“She’s good. Learned how to sit.”

“Sick.” Tyler smiled all lopsided, and it was genuine. “Give her a hug for me, okay?”

Josh nodded. “I will.”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“One of these days we’re gonna be living on some little farm in the middle of nowhere. Just us two.” Tyler’s eyes were soft; thoughtful. “And maybe a dog."

It was with a full heart that Josh looked back at him, grinned, and said, “I can’t wait.” **  
**

 

**Author's Note:**

> wish i could've made this one a little longer but oh well
> 
> feel free to shoot me an ask on tumblr (@axebastardd / @21bastards). i promise i won't bite <3


End file.
